


mission: implausible

by wrathandruin



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Humor, LEON IS MY HUSBAND WHAT A DORK, basically a retelling of the events if leon has a partner, by the way leon is a colossal fucking nerd but you probably knew that already, everyone's gonna ignore you its gonna be gr8, that partner being you, this takes place during re4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:33:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4395566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrathandruin/pseuds/wrathandruin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leon S. Kennedy didn't need a partner to go rescue the president's daughter.</p><p>Leon S. Kennedy didn't need that furry jacket of his either, but he sure as hell felt more comfortable while he had it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mission: implausible

**Author's Note:**

> i had fuuuuuuuuuuuun writing this.
> 
> @ leon, i <3 u bb. you oblivious dork. your quips are lame.
> 
> I LOVE RESIDENT EVIL JUS TS A YING. I ALSO PLAN ON WRITING FOR JAKE MULLER AND PIERS NIVANS(MY PO OR BABY PIERS OH MY GOODNESS) AND PROBABLY ADA WONG AND HELENA HARPER AND CLAIRE REDFIELD AND JUST EVERYONE OKAY ??? ?? ? ?????????????????????? i hope.

"This is fine."  
  
You shot one, then another. Two more.  
  
"This is totally okay."  
  
Narrowly dodging a knife hurling at your face, you tripped, rolled, and were back on your feet within seconds, now covered in a fine layer of dust and powdery dirt.  
  
"We're gonna be _fine_."  
  
Your partner called your name, and you turned to see him running towards a house. You pursued him, and after you were safely inside, he secured the door. Hearing a distant rumbling, which you naively thought came from a motorcycle, you looked curiously out of the window and paled.  
  
"Great. Chainsaw." He muttered, shoving furniture in front of the windows.  
  
"Calm _down,_ Agent Kennedy, we're going to be _fine!"_ you nearly shouted, scurrying around the first floor in search of something that could assist your current situation. Your search was unfruitful, so you ventured up the rickety, rotting wood stairs and into the one room on the second floor, just in time to see a ladder shatter the window directly in front of you.  
  
"OH NO YOU DON'T, YOU ASSHOLES!" you roared, a battle cry, as you ran across the small room and pushed the ladder with all your might, sending 3 of the "assholes" flying back to solid ground with a series of satisfying thumps.  
  
Just then, you heard a bloodcurdling scream, followed by the sound of a ballistic chainsaw, and suddenly feared that your trusty acquaintance of a partner had bit the dust in a terribly gruesome way. Your fears were abolished by the sounds of furious footsteps, followed by the appearance of Agent Kennedy, who ignored your inquiries regarding his well-being and promptly flung himself out of the window, but, like, in a _cool_ way, y'know?  
  
More footsteps, followed by the harsh revving of a chainsaw signaled exactly what had prompted him to defenestrate himself.  
  
" ** _HOLY FUCK!_** " you screeched, flinging yourself out of the window as well, but in a far less eloquent way, that ended with you face down in the dirt. After a short pause, you frantically scrambled to your feet and sprinted to the spot where your partner stood, picking the demented villagers off one at a time.  
  
" _That_ was a—" You unleashed a fit of coughs, due to your having gotten a face full of dirt "— _dick move_ , Kennedy." You spat, standing shoulder to shoulder with him and giving him a nasty sideways glare that he didn't notice.  
  
"I figured you would follow my lead." He muttered with that tough-guy attitude of his, probably assuming it was a decent apology. You scoffed.  
  
"You could have at least given me a heads up," You complained, scoring an impressive five headshots in a row. You always _were_ a better shot when you were pissed off. " _'Hey, there's a dumbass with a chainsaw on my ass, so unless you_ want _to be sliced and diced, we should probably jump out of this window.'_ Would that have been so hard?"  
  
"If I had said all that, he would've had plenty of time to 'slice and dice' us."  
  
You huffed, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you heard that eardrum-imploding battle cry once again.  
  
"Oh, for fuck's sake—"  
  
Thoroughly annoyed, you grabbed your shotgun, unloaded into that nightmarish sack-covered face, and, while he was dazed, you snatched the chainsaw from his hands and made quick work of him.  
  
Leon stood in a state of moderately horrified, unsure awe as you slashed and thrashed your way through the demented villagers, coming to his senses only when he noticed them stop in their tracks and start to retreat.  
  
A few moments of confused silence—aside from your light panting—passed, and just as you were about to ask what the bloody hell was up with these people, your partner evidently felt the need to add to the annoyance of the situation.  
  
"Where's everyone going? Bingo?"  
  
Your new best friend—the chainsaw, of course—was mere inches from the face of your partner as soon as you had processed the literal feces that had come out of his mouth, and the look on your face was one that just _begged_ him to try you. Agent Kennedy, sort of surprised at your aggressive display so soon into the mission, stood still as a statue with his head tilted back slightly, silently staring back at you with a certain degree of panic in his eyes.  
  
A few seconds passed and you groaned, lowering your weapon lazily as the anger on your face dissipated partially. Tired, dirty, and still a little bit out of breath, you began to trudge off, but stopped after a few steps to look back over your shoulder at him.  
  
"You're goddamn lucky you're useful... And pretty," you muttered irritably, before continuing on your journey for whatever scarce resources may be found in the small pueblo.

Had he not almost had his head chopped off by both the psychotic villagers _and_ his new partner, he might have smiled at you and retorted with some flirtatious jibe along the lines of _"you think I'm pretty?"_  , but he feared that opening his mouth again any time soon might lead to you having to file a report on the _tragic and accidental death by chainsaw of your beloved partner_ once you'd undoubtedly finished the mission on your own.


End file.
